The Fall of Arranton
by Benning
Summary: When the Covenant hit the colony of Vulpes Pablo, Alex Marlowe must choose between survival and conscience.


"Right, so it's there right in front of me. Ten feet tall, at least. Fear freezes me. My hands aren't mine anymore. He knocks the rifle right out of my hands, and picks me up by the collar. "Your destruction," he snarls, "Is-"

"Hang on." Crane sniffed the air. "You smell something, Russo?" Concern entered her voice.

Russo scrunched his face up in confusion. "No…?"

"It smells like… bullshit."

"Keep it down! Both of you!" I snapped. "We're here to watch for Covenant activity, not discuss war stories."

"Oh, come on, LT, we're just-" protested Crane.

"Watch for Covenant. Your watch is nearly over."

Arranton was the youngest city on the planet of Vulpes Pablo; when the first colonies began to fall, they fled in their millions here. The UNSC built Arranton to house them; the Prime Minister of Vulpes Pablo declared it, "The ugliest thing I've ever seen." Seeing them up close, it was hard to disagree. Thousands and thousands of grey rectangles that jutted upwards like splinters in the planet's skin.

Every apartment in all of them was the exact same: a living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Crane and Russo lay on their bellies, the former with a sniper rifle and the latter with binoculars. I sat on the arm of a sofa, my assault rifle pointed at the apartment's entrance.

"Come on, sir," moaned Russo. "It's two more minutes."

I did not dignify his complaints with a response. He carried on bitching for the next two minutes, until my watch beeped. "Time's up," I said.

Russo practically leaped up. "My leg's gone dead. Christ, that was-"

"Sit back down and don't move until Russo and Pendleton are out here."

"Oh come on, you really think the entire Covenant Army's going to pop up out of nowhere in thirty seconds?"

"Another word, Russo, and I will have you court marshalled for contempt." If he didn't respect me, he would fear me.

"Vince." Crane put a hand on his shoulder. "Vince, fucking leave it, mate. It's not worth it."

Russo snorted, and furrowed his brow. "My apologies, sir." He spat the final word out with vitriol.

"Apology accepted, Private." Russo and Crane were our pilots; they had landed the pelican fairly well on the roof, but that was not under fire. Either of them could crack.

I pushed open the door to the master bedroom, where I had ordered the remainder of my squad to rest. Redwood lay sprawled across the floor, still wearing the ODST helmet she had salvaged. Her wearing it could lead to some trouble if we came across any actual ODSTs- they didn't take kindly to anyone else appropriating their equipment- but the chance of saving her life outweighed any shock trooper's bruised ego.

The other three, however, all sat awake on the edge of the double bed. Only Yates looked up. Pendleton read something out from a piece of paper, while Travers listened.

"…squad was assembled on short notice. None of us knew each other before hand, however, I think we're getting on rather well. Other than the odd hiccup, there is very little tension between the individuals in the squad. I hope to be seeing you soon. Yours Sincerely, Raymond Aloysius Pendleton." He lowered the paper. "You think that works?"

"Maybe. I'd just make one more addition." Travers snatched it out of his hands and ripped it in half. "There. Much better."

"You two! Stop it!" I shouted. "I am relieving Crane and Russo. You will replace them for the next two hours on overwatch duty. You see anything that could possibly Covenant, you tell me straight away. Get going."

Travers left without a word; Pendleton gathered up his scraps of paper and hurried out after him.

"I ordered you to rest. Why are you awake?"

Yates glanced over at Redwood, snoring loudly. "Yeah. Kinda hard to sleep to that soundtrack." She stood up, and dug something out from under the bed.

"You've been drinking?" I said. "What the hell-"

"Relax, Ell Tee. Like I'd share with those two tits." She popped off the cap with her teeth. "I ain't drunk anything yet."

"Listen very carefully, Corporal Yates. Vulpes Pablo is under attack from the Covenant. Civilians are still being evacuated. Current casualties exceed 10,000 in less than a day. Latest reports position a Covenant army of over 100,000 troops within forty miles from our location."

She took a swig. "You're right. I should get drunk."

I snatched the bottle from her hands. "The fate of humanity is in our hands, Corporal Yates. Another infraction like this and I will have you court marshalled for gross dereliction of duty."

Putting her hands up in mock surrender, she said, "Alright, alright."

"Now get to sleep." I turned to leave.

"Where you going?" she asked. "Sir," she added quickly.

"Not that am I under any obligation to inform you of my actions, Corporal, but I am going to the toilet."

"Toilet. Sure. Okay." She made a rude hand gesture. "Hey, if you need a hand, I'm right here."

"…You're a degenerate, Yates."

With a salute, she said, "And proud, sir."

I went into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, and pulled out my datapad. The face of Captain Edwin J Marlowematerialisedd on the screen.

Eddie was one of the most handsome men I'd ever met; his neatly combed black hair and strong lantern jaw made him look a model UNSC Naval officer, with the personality to match.

"Lieutenant. I trust that things are going well down on the surface?"

"No sign of Covenant activity yet. Any word on those Forerunner artefacts?"

He sighed. "Colonel Waters is establishing a perimeter around ONI's dig site, but the spooks are still working on retrieving the thing. It could take up to another twenty-four hours. I am considering ordering all troops to fall back to the dig site and perform a final stand there. It would give away the dig site's exact location, true, but the Covenant have already pinpointed its location to Arranton thanks to them intercepting our transmissions and they'll be making a move against Preston's company soon anyway. Your thoughts?"

"We're better where we are, I think. The more time we get, the better; blowing our cover this early would be a mistake, sir."

Eddie nodded. "Thank you for your advice, lieutenant. I love you."

"I love you too." And the screen returned to static. I pressed a hand to where his cheek had been a few moments ago. The screen felt colder than stones.

I shouldn't complain. I was lucky to even be able to talk to him.

When I went back into the bedroom, I found both Redwood and Yates asleep. At least she could follow some orders.

I lay down on the bed, and went to sleep.

"JESUS CHRIST, WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Travers stabbed his fingers into my shoulder.

I shot up. "Covenant?" Beside me, Yates had already stood up, peering out of the window, while Redwood was only just rousing.

"No, actually, it's John Travolta and Forrest Whittaker on a funny angle. Course it's the fucking Covenant!" snapped Russo.

"Cut the lip. Where are they?"

He motioned outside to a series of distant lights, like the eyes of things that live under children's beds.

"Jesus. Travers, raise Waters and war-"

"Shhh," said Redwood. "You hear that?"

The phantom's whisper was horrifically beautiful, like the screech of a siren. For a terribly long moment, none of us moved, as the sleek purple thing floated past the window.

"Oh shit, get down-" got out Travers, before the Phantom aimed its concussion rifle at us and fired.

I raised my hands over my head, and glass bit its razor teeth into my knuckles. Better than my face.

"Die, you alien motherfuckers!" Pendleton held his assault rifle up, fired, and yelped as the recoil sent it clattering across the floor.

"Careful, you tit." Travers grabbed him by the back of the collar and shoved him into the living room, before running out himself.

"Get to the roof. Get to the roof now."

Too late; the phantom fired its concussion rifle, and the world burned. The heat scalded my palms all raw and red and broken. Unrelenting force slammed me hard against the wall. A scream clawed its way up my throat, but I held it there. Being detested was a tolerable attribute of a leader, but the moment they realized I was just as terrified and lost as them, they would break.

A second shot never came; the phantom opened its doors like the mouth of a screaming child, and in its throat lurked something large and ugly and bathed in bright blue light. He wanted to end this himself.

I pushed myself up, and stumbled for the living room. Crane was staring out of the window in a trance; I gave her a sharp punch to the arm. "Crane!"

"Wha- yeah- what?"

"Get to the roof, prepare the pelican for take-off. Hail Waters, tell him we're falling back to his position. Understood?"

She nodded, and ran. Pendleton and Travers followed.

I turned to see Redwood scramble on her hands and knees; yanking her up by her collar, I shouted, "Run!" and we saw no reason to disobey.

We'd just made it to the stairwell when Crane came barrelling down.

"What?" I asked.

"Russo Russo Russo where the hell is Russo-"

"No. Crane, you're our pilot, and we're going to need a quick lift off. Get back to the pelican."

"But-"

"That's an order, Crane." I turned to Redwood. "Come on, you're with me."

"He's dead, y'know," said Yates.

"We don't leave people behind."

I stepped into the apartment, and the stillness poisoned by stomach with fear. We aimed out wan and pathetic torches into the darkness, with all the futility of throwing a pebble into God's eye.

"Find Russo, then go." Redwood repeated it to herself like a mantra. "Find Russo, then go. Find Russo, then go."

I found Russo.

Well, to be more accurate, my foot found a puddle. I aimed my torch at my feet, and found Vincent Russo slumped like a sack of potatoes on the floor, his own blood congealing around him.

"Jesus." I checked his pulse; somehow, the heat clinging to his body made me want to vomit. "Russo's dead. Redw-"

The electric blue lit up the room, and for a hideously long moment, nothing moved.

And then came the roar, deep and alien and primal. I swivelled, just in time to see the blue pierce straight through Helena Redwood's belly.

She never screamed, and the ODST helmet obscured her face. Was she scared? In pain? Or disappointed that I'd killed her?

Redwood fell off the blade, pitched forward, and lay still. Sometimes I wonder if she didn't die- it missed her spine, after all- and that the Elite felt a terrible pang of sympathy for her, nursed her back to health, and saved her life.

I know it's not true. But… it's so much easier.

Helena Redwood died for my pathetic little dreams of a perfect war, and I didn't even have the courage to save her corpse.

By all rights, the Elite should have killed me. I bolted straight for the door, ducked under his arm as he- it, it swung, and rolled out into the hall.

And then I ran and ran and ran and oh Jesus he was right behind me and I sprinted up the stairs three steps at a time and I could feel the heat of his blade- its blade, its blade- and there was the pelican and Travers was screaming "Hurry the fuck up!" and I grabbed his hand and I was safe, safe, safe.

"Told ya."

I thought of half a thousand things to say- "Two people are dead, Yates", or "Just shut the fuck up" being the most tempting- but I had the energy for neither of them. Everything except sleep suddenly became unimportant.

"Should be arriving at the dig site in thirty minutes, sir," said Crane.

"Good. Keep us away from any Covenant patrols. Better late than dead."

I collapsed into a chair, and idly watched Travers shout at Pendleton.

"Were your parents siblings or something? How fucking retarded do you have to be to not be able to hold a sodding gun?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just-"

Travers tore Pendleton's assault rifle from his hands. "Did they not fucking train you or anything?"

"Well, actually, due to time constraints, my training-"

With a sigh, Travers said, "I get the picture. Shut up. Back in my old unit, there was a bloke named Jim Harlaw. Plasma mortar comes down, fucking takes his right off. Nothing left of it. And for ten seconds or so, the body just stands there. Doesn't move. Most fucking terrifying thing I've ever seen.

"For those ten seconds, that lifeless corpse that literally did not have a brain- literally just a lump of dead flesh- had a better grip on its weapon than you did. A dead person outperformed you."

Honestly, I probably should have stopped them, but some part of me found it rather satisfying. "Right," shrieked Travers. "Hold the gun like this- no, you muppet, not like that…"

The tent consumed our view. It arched on and on and on, all grey as clouds. A great harrowing wind would come by and bellow into the tarp, like sails on a ship. Floodlights, a stark solid snow white, surrounded every corner.

"This place used to be a city centre, didn't it? Christ. How many people did they have to move? And how'd they keep this thing a secret? Bob the Builder's got his work cut out for him here."

"Crane, I don't know what the fuck you watched when you were a kid, but I'm pretty sure Bob the Builder never spent an episode building a giant hole in the middle of a city…. But that's a good point. What did they say it was?"

"There's a sign right there." Pendleton pointed to a signpost that read "RENOVATIONS UNDER WAY".

"Come on." Travers walked faster than normal.

"Aren't you going to read the sign?" asked Pendleton.

Travers sighed. "That mouth of yours, Pendleton, has a choice: either keep shut or eat a fist."

I leaned against the pelican and watched the three of them walk away.

"We could take the pelican, you know," Yates said. She balanced a knife on her fingertip.

"What?"

"Just saying. We could." Catching the knife, she winced when she saw the pinprick of blood.

"You're talking about desertion."

She shrugged. "Just stating a fact."

"Anyway, neither of us can fly a pelican."

"I'm a fast learner. Disarmed a nuke once," she said, sucking on her finger.

We strolled forward, towards the entrance to the tent. Two sentries stood outside, one talking with Travers.

"Bollocks," I said, and laughed.

"Nah, it's true. Happened a few years ago. Bomb disposal guy told me how to do it while he bled to death three rooms away from me."

"You could run yourself, if you wanted. Why d'you want to drag me into it?"

"I knew someone who deserted on their own. Got so damn lonely they came right back. Ya see, they started thinking that they could just ignore their conscience, you know. Screw humanity, every man for himself, you know?" Yates shook her head. "Nah. Doesn't work like that. What you have to do is find someone else- anyone else, really- and care about them and only them. It fools your conscience into thinking it's doing the right thing."

"What happened to this deserter?"

"I guess we'll find out."

We walked up to the tent entrance.

"So how'd you explain the tent?" Pendleton asked one of the sentries. "You know, to everybody living in the city?"

"Something about Asbestos or air cancer or some crap. I dunno. Wasn't really paying attention when they explained it, to be honest."

When I saw the inside of the tent, a sudden nauseating bolt of desolate grey struck me. The thick roof suffocated us, kept us trapped, and I realized that I might die here. I'd never see the sun again. Never see Eddie again in the flesh, never to hold him and let all the pain melt away, never to do anything except die and be forgotten like the rest of humanity, because it was so obvious I wondered how I had never realized it before:

We could not win this war. The Covenant would root out every last man, woman, and child, and kill them all. They would melt our cities down to ash and glass, snuff out thousands upon thousands years of progress like a candle in a thunderstorm. Everything we had done- everything we could do- everything every human being had ever done: it all lead up to this last pathetic war.

Had we ever even scratched them? Was this just one of thousands of wars just like this, where they came along and swatted aside species like flies because they wanted it?

But I didn't have to die here, did I? A word in Yates' ear, and a half-arsed excuse to get back to the pelican, and I'd be safe.

I hated myself for even thinking it… yet all it was frighteningly close.

In the centre of the vast tent, a massive pit opened up; a bridge wide enough for four lanes of traffic ran to its centre to a lift that carried a menagerie of UNSC vehicles and troops. A few normal sized elevators were next to it.

All around the edge of the pit, all that remained of Colonel Preston Waters' battalion was busy setting up fortifications and moving digging equipment out of the way. A few soldiers climbed up near the tent's corners and began slicing the roof off.

"You Marlowe?" said a private, chewing a wad of gum.

I thought about berating him about addressing me with such informality, but I suddenly realized I didn't actually give a shit. "Yeah?

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "Waters wants a word."

Waters sat inside a small portacabin marked CHIEF FOREMAN DAVID HAWKES with his feet on his desk.

"Alright? Alex, isn't it?" He extended a thick and calloused hand. "Want a smoke?"

I refused, and sat down.

"You won't mind if I have one, then?"

"Sir, you outrank me substantially."

"Wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

I immediately felt uncomfortable. "By all means, sir."

"Thank you." He slid a cigarette into his mouth. "You seen a glassing before, Lieutenant? You prefer Alex or Lieutenant?"

"Alex. No. I've only ever seen the tapes."

Taking out a lighter with FEET FIRST INTO HELL engraved on it, he lit his smoke. "Fall of New Haven. Five years back. Most goddamn beautiful thing I ever saw. You know that we lost 4 million ODSTs alone at New Haven? Four fucking million. New Haven was our home, where they trained us and made us into something greater." He glanced at the picture frame on his desk, of him, a woman, and a young girl, about fourteen or fifteen. "The Covenant arrived so quickly most of them were burnt to ash in their sleep. Makes you wonder what it's like to die asleep. Whether they can feel it. They can't, right?"

"I wouldn't know."

Waters dragged his feet off the table and stared into my eyes. "You know what hurts the worst out of all of it? There was this scream. Someone on the radio just starts screaming and screaming and screaming and they don't stop for a full ten seconds and then it goes all quiet. Never even knew their name. Never discovered it. Might be that all their family and friends died there too, and nobody ever mourned them." He leant forward, almost aggressively. "There is an ODST company stationed on the Winter's Blade, under the command of Captain Edwin Marlowe. In two hours, they will be dropped planetside to die against the Covenant."

Clarity dawned on me.

Waters threw his cigarette from his mouth, and slunk down to his knees. "Her name is Jessica Waters. Please, do not send her down there. Please. Alex, I am on my knees, I am begging you, talk to him. Make him remove her from the squad. Say she's ill, arrest her, just- please. Please don't-"

"Sit back down, Colonel. You're embarrassing yourself. Run me through the battleplan."

Something inside him broke, and he collapsed weeping against the floor.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't say no, did I? The battleplan. Show me?"

After he'd made a pathetic attempt at clearing his tears, he climbed back into his chair. "Covenant forces are coming in f-from the east. The majority of our forces will be defending from that direction, while a small contingent covers our western flank. The elevator is fitted out with explo-"

I slammed a fist into the table. "Okay. Let me make this easy. What would you say the safest place for a soldier to be stationed would be?"

"At the bottom of the dig site. Thirty marines are stationed down there to cover our retreat if-"

"And where will my squad and I be stationed?"

"…At the bottom of the dig site?"

"Correct." I smiled. "I'll talk to Eddie. No promises." I extended a hand.

"No promises. My daughter goes down, you stay up here."

"Understandable."

He clasped his hand around mine, and we shook.

On my way out, I saw Waters' cigarette. I crushed it into the ground with my heel.

Static obscured Eddie's face.

"Alex. How are things down there?"

"Alright, I guess. Listen, I need you to do me a favour. There a Jessica Waters onboard?"

"Let me check… ah. Yes. ODST. Got a fairly standard record, one or two detentions for fighting, a few commendations to balance it out. Daughter of the Colonel you're serving under at the moment. What about her?"

"I need you to pull her from the drop."

He arced an eyebrow. "Why?"

If I couldn't trust Eddie, who could I trust? "It's her dad. The guy was on his knees begging me, Eddie, I couldn't-"

"She stays."

"She's one person. It won't make a difference."

"The second you start making exceptions to rules, the floodgates open. Nobody is exempt from their duty to serve humanity."

"If-"

"Nobody."

He disconnected the link.

I hurled the tacpad against the nearest wall.

We found one of the small portacabins the xenoarchaeologists must have used before they were all evacuated; Crane slept on, doing an almost perfect impression of Redwood, while Yates tossed her blade from hand to hand.

The ten hours that followed dragged on like razors down a wrist, but I suspect they lasted even longer for Pendleton and Travers. The two sat on a leather sofa next to a coffee table and a forest's worth of discarded paper covered in scribbles.

"Almost! "Petr Travrs!" You almost got it!" shouted Pendleton, waving the sheet of paper up the air like a winning lottery ticket. "One more time. One more time and you'll get it."

"I can't do it." Travers stood up. "I just can't do it, okay? This is a waste of everybody's fucking time."

"But you nearly got it!" Pendleton looked like someone had just strangled a puppy in front of him.

"Fuck off, Ray. Don't patronize me."

Pendleton put a hand on Travers' shoulder. "What, you're just going to give up? You were so close-"

Travers brushed it away. "Just fuck off, you pretentious twat."

"Coward."

Absolute silence suffocated us all.

"What you fucking call me?"

"Coward. You can't even dare face failing, can you?"

He took an aggressive step forward. "I have not stared death in the face half a hundred fucking times to be called a coward by some pathetic little shit who can't even shoot a gun." Travers pressed a fist to Pendleton's chin. "Call me a coward. I fucking dare you."

Pendleton took in a long, shuddery breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. "You're a coward."

And Travers let his hand fall back down to his side.

"I've been called a lot of names over the years, but coward? T- that- that's –"

His tears swallowed his next word. Travers sank down into his chair and collapsed his head into his hands.

Waters sent one of his men, a private named Hugh Davis, to tell me how the war was going. Even if I'd failed his daughter, he appreciated the effort enough to keep me up to date on proceedings. "Outside of Arranton? Bloody brilliant. They're so focused on this place they let the rest of the planet off. Most of the civvies got out without a fight, and up in space we're winning cause they're all converging on this one point it's like shooting particularly large fish in a particularly small barrel."

"So basically, everybody wins except us."

"Basically."

"How did the Covies even discover the Forerunner artefacts in the first place?"

"Some ONI moron named Pritchard or something broadcast an unprotected transmission."

Pendleton and Travers stayed up for another good hour discussing Travers' first battle. "Pissed my pants and spent the whole time cowering under the table. Big elite bastard came at me, somehow stabbed the bastard in the neck. They're all shown dying instantly on the vids, right? This one rolled around trying to hold all its blood in its neck while it shit itself. Most pathetic thing I've ever seen. There are times… when I wonder what it felt. I shouldn't. Christ, it's a goddamn alien, but the way he started mewling and reaching towards me…. Was he trying to kill me? Or did he just want to not die alone?

"It. It. Goddamn it, it's an it."

But they fell asleep soon enough to, leaving only Yates and me.

"Beer?" she asked, holding out a bottle.

"The hell did you get that from?"

"Apartment."

"Didn't I tell you get rid of that?"

She shrugged. "Suppose you did. You complaining?"

I snatched it out of her hand and popped the cap off with my teeth. "Why me?"

"I ask myself the same every day."

"Ha ha. No, I mean, you said you didn't want to desert alone, but why me in particular? Why not one of the others?"

"You say that like I've got some masterplan in the works. Be funny to imagine your husband's face, I guess. Offer's still there if you want it."

I shook my head. "I intend to survive this battle. I also intend to win it."

Sometimes, I think I dreamed it all.

"Elites!" screeched Pendleton. The aliens launched a volley of plasma at us; I slinked down behind cover, the projectile so close I felt the heat on my cheek.

"Concentrate your fire on the Elites!" barked Waters. "Break their shields and finish them off with a headshot!"

Through the smoke and haze, blue swords burned, getting closer and closer and closer until their owners crumpled and fell under the hail of gunfire.

And more and more came, firing blue and red through the mist of battle, coupled with a barrage of plasma grenades; one caught Hugh Davis on the arm, giving him just enough time to say, "Bollocks," before he exploded into nothing.

I don't know how long we lasted. Sometimes it's hours, a great battle that ground the covenant down to their most desperate. Other time, it's minutes, a pathetic little skirmish that didn't even worry them. You lose track of time quickly in battle.

Either way, it ended when Waters died.

"This is Lieutenant Crosby," our headsets shrieked. The fear in his voice was obvious. "They're dead. Waters's dead. Same with his command staff. I'm- I'm assuming command. Fucking hell, everybody needs to- needs to stay-"

We never did find out what we needed to do, because a dull, wet thud came from the earpiece instead of words.

And the line broke.

Men and women ran back, converging into the lift as the Covenant shot us in the back. "It's lost! We've fucking lost!" screamed some moron over the open channel.

"They don't die! They're goddamn invincible!" a woman howled. "Run!"

Yates looked at me, and said, "Can I say "I told you so" now?"

Crane sat against the barricade, cradling her own arm in her lap. A dark stain of piss stained her legs. "Oh dear," she said, holding the limb up her face. "Oh dear." She slowly stood up, only for a plasma blast to take off half her head.

Pendleton and Travers were running for the bridge; soldiers poured into cargo elevator, while those at the rear were cut down in their hundreds. A plasma bolt took Pendleton in the side, and he collapsed, crying out. Travers ran to him and tried to stop the blood, and I don't know if he did or not because when he started screaming I looked away. I like to think that they're with Redwood and the elite. It makes me feel a little better.

The lift was full, but people were still throwing themselves into the crowd; anyone who got left behind would be slaughtered in moments.

And then, under the weight of half a thousand soldiers, the bridge collapsed. It was suddenly yanked from under all of them, and those not in the lift seemed to hover for an instant, like fucking Wile E. Coyote cartoon or something. And then they fell, screaming all the way.

"Oh, there's a lift right there, by the way," said Yates, pointing to a small elevator next to the foreman's office. Nobody else had noticed it. "You coming?"

A few soldiers still ran around aimlessly, the Covenant cutting them down without quarter.

Yates stepped into the lift. There was enough space for a few more at least… but I thought of the bridge. An aimlessly scrum of every man for himself. There was no brave last stand against the Covenant; they all died screaming in a mess of bodies, blood, and piss. What was dignity, compared to even a chance at living for a few moments more? How many were crushed before the bridge even fell?

I couldn't even muster up the effort to hate myself for it. "Come on," I said. "Let's go."

The lift started to descend, and Yates said, "Pelican. Still think it was a bad idea?"

I sighed. "How long until this lift reaches the bottom?"

"Thirty minutes or something."

"We're probably going to be dead very shortly, aren't we?"

"Optimistic."

Fuck it. "Wanna have sex?"

She smirked. "Yeah, alright."

It was petty, I know; a pathetic little stab at Eddie, because he was going to live and I wasn't.

For a few moments, my mind drifted to the others; Helena Redwood, Vincent Russo, Raymond Pendleton, Peter Travers, Roberta Crane. They were all dead; that was strange. It still felt like there should be a few of them left.

The cavern's expanse made me feel pathetic, although I suppose I was used to it at that point. I shined my torch into the darkness, and found the mass of bodies and wreckage. Nothing moved.

"Now what do we do?" I asked Yates.

"There's gotta be another way out of this place."

"There isn't." The voice echoed to the stark lonely corners of the cavern and came all the way back again.

I aimed my torch over at a figure decked out in face-concealing armour, black as night, with the name R. PRITCHARD emblazoned above his left breast. He held a submachine gun. Next to him, a soldier slowly crawled her way across the ground, blood leaking from her left thigh.

He fired a burst of bullets at her, and flopped still like a dead fish. "She was dead anyway."

"Where's the rear guard?"

"You're lookin' at it. Bridge collapse squished 'em."

"And you survived, how?"

"Could ask you the same." He hooked a thumb over at a small black building embedded into the cliff face. "I was examining the, ahem, "forerunner artefacts". Come on, you've come this far. Might as well find out what the fuss is all about, right?"

Yates shrugged. "Might as well."

And he lead us inside the building.

"Ta-da!" he said, proudly displaying a concrete room that was empty, save for a HAVOK nuke in the centre.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked.

"The forerunner artefacts. Oh, did I not mention? They're not real."

No. Not possible. "What? Why? How is that possible? Eddie said-"

"This may come as a shock to you, but he lied. Fibbed. Fabricated. Told porkies. Made it up, told an alternative truth, pulled it from thin air, told a tall tale, deceived you." He took his tacpad out and pressed it into my hand. "Talk to him. He'll explain it better than me."

My fingers became numb, dead things that could hardly find the on switch. "Eddie," I said, when he appeared.

"You know, don't you?"

"Eddie…"

"Alex-"

"I was bait."

"Do you know how many soldiers died during the fall of Arranton?"

"It doesn't fucking matter-"

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY SOLDIERS DIED DURING THE FALL OF ARRANTON!?"

I spat the word out like venom. "No."

"10,000. Do you know how many Covenant will die when that nuclear bomb is detonated?"

"Not enough.

"Millions. Millions upon millions." He sighed heavily. "You are a necessary loss."

It all came back to the same thing in the end. "Why me?"

"Because I love you."

I laughed bitterly. "Nice way of showing it."

"Because every man and woman I send out there to die for me is just as human and whole as you. How dare I make exceptions for those I love? No." A tear leaked from his eye. "Nobody is exempt from their duty to humanity, Alex. Nobody."

"Except you?"

It was his turn to laugh. "I wish I could. I wish I'd died in my first battle. Death is a luxury I will not grant myself until I have done my duty. Humanity needs leaders, Alex. Leaders who are not afraid to do terrible things to achieve great things."

"You're fucking delusion if you believe a word of that."

"Do you think I want any of this? If I could die and everybody else on Vulpes Pablo could live, I'd take it in a heartbeat. In half an hour, I am ordering an orbital bombardment on your position, to occur simultaneously with the detonation of the nuclear bomb." He wiped away a tear. "Goodbye, Alex."

And the screen turned to static.

Half an hour to live.

I turned to Yates, who had stolen Pritchard's submachinegun off him. "Disarm it!" she shouted. "Disarm it now! You'll die too!"

"That's kinda the plan."

I pointed up to where Eddie must have been, all safe and secure. "He's selling you out to die down here, and you just take it?"

"Our lives for millions of civilians. Fair trade."

She pointed the gun at him. "Disarm the nuke."

"Yeah, threaten the guy who is going to get atomized regardless in a few minutes. Genius. Hell, soon enough the Covenant are going to barge the door down and kill us all anyway." Pritchard held his hands up, as if to say, "Bring it on!"

"Why?" I asked. "Why do any of this? What do you get out of it?"

"What- what do I get out of it?" He laughed. "You have any idea how many civilians we rescued, because the Covenant are all focused here? How many Covies we're going to kill? I'd die for that. I'd die a thousand times for that. Now, are you going to fucking shoot me or-

Red exploded through his chest. Pritchard fell, a final red smile on his face. He continued to twitch and dance while the pool of blood grew around him.

Yates threw the gun to the ground. "I can disarm this. Enough time, and I can disarm this."

"Why? Pritchard's right. The covies are going to kill us anyway."

"If I'm dying, I am not dying for Edwin Marlowe's fucking glory. He dies with us."

He deserved to die a thousand times over, that was true. But if he was all we had- would it be better for all of humanity to die, or for it to live on in those who did not deserve it?

I walked over to the gun, and slowly picked it up.

"Fuck it."

And I shot her.

She slumped over the bomb, her blood slowly trickling down and staining the floor all red.

Among the corpses, I slowly sat down, and waited to die.


End file.
